


All in a Days Work

by Maralee



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, My First Work in This Fandom, Not Beta Read, Pining, Sleepy Boys, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-24 23:08:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20022535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maralee/pseuds/Maralee
Summary: Arthur and Merlin are trapped in Arthur's rooms by a disgruntled witch. As Gaius searches for a way to get them free, the pair have no choice but to wait. In the end, they get some well deserved rest.





	All in a Days Work

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! I'm not very good at doing these notes, so I'll try to keep it brief. This is my first work in the Merlin fandom, although I've scrolled through it for a few years.
> 
> Anyways, I got inspired while I was half-asleep and spent most of the day writing (and rewriting) this one-shot, so I'm really excited to share it!!
> 
> Thank you for giving this fic a chance. Enjoy :)

"This is all your fault, Merlin!" Arthur tugged again at the door, but it didn't budge. They were trapped.

Merlin rolled his eyes from where he stood behind Arthur. Knowing that Arthur was irritated at the situation, and not him, Merlin said dryly, "Sure I was the one who flirted with that maid, made a complete arse of myself, and humiliated the poor girl. Oh, wait! That's right: it was you!"

Arthur sighed. "How was I supposed to know she was a witch?" He grumbled.

"Well, to start, you could be a decent human being--"

"Merlin."

Merlin recognized the tiredness in Arthur's tone, and softened. "It wasn't actually your fault, you know. It could've happened to anyone!"

"Like you?" Arthur cast Merlin a teasing look over his shoulder.

"Oh, no. Not me. Probably Percival or Leon, but not me," Merlin laughed. He smiled a bit wider as Arthur chuckled too.

"So how long do you think it will take to get out of here?"

Merlin shrugged, coming to stand beside Arthur. He raised a hand and brushed the door, testing the magic; Merlin couldn't do anything without revealing himself. The servants entrance was sealed off too, he knew. They would only scale the castle wall of they were desperate. "We have to wait for the guards to find Gaius, who's probably still collecting herbs for his supply. And then Gaius will have to investigate the magic she used," Merlin said, more to himself. "If all goes well, we should be out of here before dark."

"If all goes well," Arthur repeated with a dry laugh. "As if we're ever that lucky."

-

As it turned out, Arthur was right--Gaius came by, asked what happened, promised to do everything he could, and then his footsteps fell away. 

The hours passed with Arthur whining and groaning, while Merlin did what chores he could in the room. But eventually Arthur sulked at his table, half-heartedly reading a book. ("Oh, so you do know how to read." "Shut up, Merlin.") Merlin sat for a bit too, but grew restless and started organizing Arthur's things and doing deeper cleaning with a partly dirty rag, by Arthur's standards.

Arthur had glanced up when Merlin first started. "What are you doing?"

"Cleaning. What does it look like?"

"I don't remember giving you more chores." Arthur returned to his book.

"You didn't obviously. I'm usually helping Gaius with research whenever stuff like this happens; it feels weird not doing anything."

"If you say so..." Arthur shook his head. Truthfully, he was enjoying this bit of downtime, despite his boredom. Despite the disgruntled maid situation, his people weren't actually in danger, as far as he knew.

But he supposed he was slightly perturbed that he couldn't attend to his duties that day, as tedious as they were. But Father could handle whatever came, Arthur was sure. 

By that same hand Arthur looked back up at his manservant--currently tidying up his wardrobe and checking his clothes for any blemishes like stains or holes, Arthur had heard Merlin mutter to himself, to fill the silence--and said, "You know Gaius can handle it."

"What?" Merlin gave him a confused look, almost resembling a doe.

"The research...or whatever else Gaius does with this magic stuff." Arthur needed to pay attention more, he realized. In these moments, which he denies, he feels like the pompous, clueless Royal prat that Merlin's always calling him.

"Of course I know he can handle it!" Merlin shot back, obviously defensive of his mentor. 

Arthur hid the twitch of his lips in his hand. "That's not what I meant, Merlin. I know you're aware of Gaius' capabilities; I'm just saying that you can relax a little bit. Besides, I know I'd probably be feeling the same if I were in your shoes."

Merlin blinked, and eyed him skeptically, as if Arthur were about to admit that he was just joking. "That's shockingly thoughtful of you."

Arthur smirked, shrugging. "I have my moments."

Arthur had felt pride many times before in his life, like the first time he had a successful hunt. Or, though he'd never admit it, the time he returned successful from his quest to get that antidote for Merlin, and later when he saw Merlin conscious and recovering, laughing at something Gaius said. He felt that pride now as Merlin laughed, and it seemed a bit of the weight on his shoulders was eased.

Merlin turned back to cleaning the wardrobe, chuckling and shaking his head slightly. Smiling to himself, Arthur returned to his book. They continued on in companionable silence for awhile, with only the turn of a page and the quiet shuffle of Merlin behind him.

After awhile came Gaius' voice: "Arthur! Merlin!"

"Still here!" Arthur called, drumming his fingers against the table, staring off past his book. 

Merlin glanced over from the window. "Haven't magically found our way out yet," He echoed, frowning at the sunset.

Gaius laughed through the door. But then they heard him sigh. "I'm afraid I haven't found anything to help your situation yet; the magic that the girl used is none I recognize. I'll have to search the library, but..."

"We're stuck here overnight," Merlin finished. 

Arthur dropped his head on the table, groaning. "What about food?" He was starving.

"Maybe someone can catapult it through the window," Merlin said.

"This isn't like the stocks, Merlin," Arthur said, slightly muffled by his arms.

"As ridiculous as it sounds, the window might be your only option. I'll see what I can do."

"Well," Merlin said, after Gaius' footsteps faded, "I'm only saying this once: looks like you were right." Merlin cast Arthur a firm look, daring him to say anything.

Arthur opened his mouth--and his stomach growled. Loudly. His cheeks burning slightly, he told Merlin, "You don't mention this again, and we're even."

"Deal."

-

A couple hours later, Merlin was leaning slightly out the window, trying (and failing) to catch the rope that Percival was tossing up.

Arthur watched Merlin reach out and almost grasp the rope, but then he fumbled. The rope fell back to the ground for the umpteenth time. Merlin almost followed, but Arthur quickly grabbed the back of his shirt, wrapping an arm around Merlin's waist as he tugged him back in.

Arthur sighed, depositing Merlin back on his feet. "You have a terrible sense of aim. Here, let me do it before we both starve to death."

He half-heartedly shoved Merlin back, and leaned out, the night breeze cool against his face. Below he could see the group of knights in the courtyard, carrying torches. Gaius was with them, holding a basket--secured shut--filled with food. Percival gathered the rope again in loops.

Impatient by his gnawing hunger, Arthur shouted, "Are you going to keep dallying? Throw it up!"

"Sorry, sire!" Percival called. "The rope got tangled."

The knight spent a few seconds fidgeting with the rope, Leon stepped forward with his torch, and then cast the rope into the air.

As it turned out, it was a bit harder than it looked. Arthur took a couple tries himself, blaming it on Merlin for distracting him, but then he finally caught it with a triumphant "Yes!"

"Merlin, help me get the rope over--"

The rope suddenly seemed to have a life of it's own, yanking and wriggling. "Whatever you're doing, Percival, cut it out!" Arthur was starving, exhausted, and all he wanted to do was curl up in his bed and forget about his terrible luck!

"It's not me, sire!"

Arthur glanced down; it seemed the knights were having a similar problem on their end too. Before he could wonder what the hell was going on, he saw movement in the corner of his eye.

A cloaked figure, their face covered by shadow, hovering at the edge of the courtyard. In one hand, they held a lit candle. Their other hand was stretched out toward Arthur like a demented claw; he was sure he heard a faint voice chanting.

It was all he needed to know. "Over there!" He shouted. "In the cloak!"

The other knights turned, saw the figure, and charged. Only Gaius and Percival, still struggling with the rope, remained.

Arthur saw the cloaked figure take off, leaving the candle to burn against the stone; soon they were cornered. He was so focused on the chase that he took to long to react to the figure twisting their hand violently, to the way the rope wrapped around his wrists and nearly yanked him out the window.

That is, if Merlin hadn't wrapped both arms around his waist and pulled harder than Arthur thought his manservant capable of. The rope burned his wrists--

His arms felt like they were being torn from his body--

It all hurt too much to focus on Merlin's warmth, or the softness of Merlin's hand as he tried to tug Arthur free.

But just when he thought his arms were actually being ripped away, the rope suddenly slackened; Arthur and Merlin fell back in a tangle of arms and legs.

Both struggled to get free. Merlin accidentally elbowed Arthur's chest, and Arthur kneed a bit too close to between Merlin's legs. ("Hey!" "Watch it!" "Watch your knee, you prat!") After a minute of clambering, Arthur ended up on top of Merlin, their faces only inches apart.

Arthur swallowed. Merlin turned tomato red. (Kind of adorable, Arthur thought to himself.)

Leon called out a variety of colorful curses, which would make even a sailor blush -- "We got her! And no, Percival, I'm not an idiot!"

Both Arthur and Merlin burst out laughing as their bickering faded away.

"Alright," Arthur said, still laughing to cover up his own embarrassment, "Help me get this rope off."

Merlin got to work, gently untying and removing the rope from Arthur's wrists. Arthur hissed as his wrists came free, rubbed raw and stinging as the last of the rope grated against his skin.

He choked out a pained groan, then glanced at Merlin, who was examining his wrists with a gentle expression. One of his hands held the cursed rope. After a couple moments, Merlin stood and leaned out the window, wrapping the rope around twice before tugging it back down to form a crude pulley system.

Merlin looked for Gaius and called down: "Get some bandages too! Arthur has some rope burns!"

Gaius nodded down below, saying something to a remaining knight, who was tying the basket to the rope. Then Gaius took off in a hobbled jog to his quarters.

By the time he returned, Merlin had already emptied and lowered the basket. As Gaius filled it back up, Merlin glanced over his shoulder.

Arthur was wolfing down almost all the food that had been sent up. "Slow down or you'll throw it back up!" He warned.

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur said through a mouthful of food. But he did slow down a bit.

Merlin tugged the basket up again, and balanced it on his hip. (Away from the window, which Arthur insisted.) Inside was some bandages, some medicine, and Merlin's dinner wrapped up in cloth.

Merlin smiled. "Thank you, Gaius!"

-

Arthur laid back on his bed with a sigh, dressed in his night clothes and partly under the covers. Despite having a day trapped in his rooms with nothing to do, Arthur was still, somehow, exhausted.

He couldn't stop thinking. About the maid who had caught his eye the other night, at one of his father's celebrations. About the anger, the hatred in her gaze--which went far beyond his unwanted attention. (It was the law against magic, Arthur realized.) He thought about how close he was to falling to death, and that his bumbling, clumsy manservant had been the one who pulled him from that.

He tried not to think about how nice it felt in Merlin's arms, when they were entangled on the floor, panting and then face-to-face. He tried not to think about the gentleness of Merlin's hands as he rubbed a cooling salve on his wrists, or the cute focused look on his face as he wrapped the bandages.

Arthur sighed, glancing over to see Merlin laying a rough blanket on the ground near Arthur's bed.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked.

"What does it look like?" Merlin didn't look at him, removing his jacket into a make-shift pillow. Arthur could hear the exhaustion in Merlin's voice as well.

"Get over here," Arthur ordered.

"What?"

"Are you deaf? Get. In. Bed."

Merlin gave him a baffled look. "Really?"

"You saved my life, Merlin. You really think I'm going to make you sleep on the floor?"

Merlin barked a laugh, as if Arthur had unknowingly made a joke.

"The other side of the bed." Arthur jerked his chin. "Before I change my mind."

Merlin rose to his feet, and sat against the bed, leaning over to take off his boots.

Arthur frowned at him.

"What?"

"Are you really going to sleep in that?"

Merlin raised his eyebrows. "My clothes? I don't have any other on hand."

"Well, they look filthy. Sleep in something else."

"I just said I don't have any other clothes with me! Am I supposed to just sleep naked?"

That would be lovely. Arthur scowled, more at his thoughts. "No, of course not. I'm sure some of the clothes I've outgrown could fit you."

Merlin's jacket flew at his face, but Arthur only laughed. When he removed the jacket, Merlin was rummaging through his wardrobe. Arthur wondered what he'd pick to wear--and idly imagined Merlin in one of his larger tunics and nothing else--

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Merlin frowned at him, nearly a pout.

"Don't flatter yourself," Arthur scoffed, turning over to reach for his book. "I was looking at a stain on your back."

He chuckled slightly as Merlin turned in a circle, almost like a dog chasing his tail.

"Ha, ha, very funny," Merlin said once he'd caught on. He disappeared behind the screen for a few long moments, the sound of shuffling--Arthur imagined him slipping out of his clothes, and into his extra clothes.

Merlin appeared a couple moments later, hair slightly disheveled from changing, and one of Arthur's sleep shirts hanging from his frame. (It was actually one of his larger ones, but Arthur chose to stay silent.) His breeches were also baggy.

Merlin folded his clothes, placing them by his boots, and felt slightly ridiculous. Despite them being ridiculously comfortable, he couldn't ignore that he was wearing Arthur's clothes. 

He crawled into the opposite side of Arthur's bed, which was far softer and far more comfortable than his own bed. Merlin nearly melted into the heavenly mattress; his aching muscles, from the past week, the past however long, sang in relief. It didn't help that the sheets smelled like Arthur, too.

Before Merlin knew it--before he could think about tomorrow when he'd have to resume his chores or return to his hard, unyielding mattress--he was drifting along like a feather on a breeze, flitting from branch to branch of scattered thoughts; his limbs grew heavy, feeling content, and his stomach sated from his earlier meal. 

There was the soft chirping of crickets, the crackling of the fireplace as it warmed the room...

"Merlin..." A voice said, familiar, almost disrupting Merlin's peace, but not intentionally. He was asking Merlin to do something, but Merlin was far too comfortable to linger on his words.

There was the closing of a book, the rustling of sheets...

Something harshly hit his leg, startling Merlin from his comfortable doze, but not quite enough to keep him awake completely.

"Merlin?" He made out Arthur's voice, even through his hazy thoughts. But he couldn't quite place his tone. It was almost...gentle.

He wasn't quite sure if it was it sleep-adled brain or not.

"Merlin," Arthur repeated nearby. He sounded amused as he said, "Are you already asleep?"

Merlin was melting back into the mattress, starting to drift again. He hummed slightly despite himself.

A pause lingered, but Merlin turned heavily on his side. His tongue heavy, Merlin mumbled, "G'night, you pr't."

Without thinking, he reached his hand out toward Arthur, brushing his fingers against the smoothness of his Prince's collar.

Fingers intertwined with his own, and he felt lips brush his forehead.

"Good night, Merlin."

Merlin fell into a deep slumber, Arthur following soon after. They drifted into each other's arms as the night wore on, dreaming of tomorrow.

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> The scene at the end with sleepy! Merlin was actually the first scene I thought of; I imagined the typical sharing a bed trope, and pictured Merlin, exhausted from a days work, and promptly falling asleep -- much to the amusement of Arthur, who secretly finds it adorable
> 
> I'd like to think that the bed sharing becomes more frequent, although they'll both claim it an accident. And if anything else becomes of it...well, that may not be an accident ;)
> 
> Kudos are much appreciated
> 
> Mara out


End file.
